


Home is Where You Make It

by QuilSniv



Series: The Age of Marvels [4]
Category: Fantastic Four, Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Peter is pretty much a member of the Richards family, prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-09
Packaged: 2019-10-21 11:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17641994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuilSniv/pseuds/QuilSniv
Summary: Peter visits the Baxter Building and gets more than he bargained for out of the trip.





	Home is Where You Make It

Peter was more than aware of the fact that the Fantastic Four was testing artificial zero-G tech.

Knowing that didn’t calm him down.

Especially since he was in one of those zero-G bubbles.

“Jeez, webs,” a voice called out from below him, and Peter swung down, so he could face the person speaking to him. “You really stepped in it this time.” Johnny Storm, flaming and all, stared up at Peter with a cheeky, shit-eating grin.

Peter’s lenses narrowed, quickly losing patience. “Shut up and get me out of here, Matchstick, before I web you up in zero-G.” Knowing he could back up his threat, Peter folded his legs and crossed his arms as Johnny moved to turn off the device. Peter instinctively flipped right-side-up to land on all-fours as the sensation of weight returned to him.

“Sorry about that, son.” Peter bolted upright at the voice as Reed and Susan entered the room, with the former holding a datapad. Peter thought he saw Ben in the doorframe, but as soon as he saw the Ever-Loving Blue-Eyed Thing, he was gone just as soon as he appeared. “We’ve been trying to modernize the Baxter Building’s security in wake of the Symbiote invasion.”

“Well, it’s better than getting stuck in that damn tube for the billionth time.” Peter grunted, “I was wondering if you were ever going to get rid of that thing.”

“Johnny wanted to keep it there.” Sue said, giving Peter a quick, soft hug. “He’s in a nostalgic phase. Either that or hitting his thirties made him sentimental.”

“Please.” Johnny huffed, a small plume of fire puffed out of his mouth. “I’m all about moving on. Y’know, ‘let the past die’ and all that schlock.”

“Sure, sure.” With a small pat on Johnny’s back, Peter moved over to shake Reed’s hand. “Is that why I found the first three seasons of Dancing of the Stars burning a hole in your DVR when I was here to watch the Mets game with Ben?”

“…Shut up.”

Peter snickered, pulling off his mask to reveal an older, but somehow boyish face, with specks of grey (A combination of age and stress) and a light stubble; a head of sweaty and wind-blown hair completed the picture. The three smiled at the hero; eighteen years ago, he was just a boy breaking into this same room looking for a job. He’d left angry, without said job and animosity towards those who would eventually become his second family.

Now, he was a leading scientist who proved the world he could succeed and achieved greatness.

He had married, had children; hell, he’d even taken on a sidekick and made her family.

Peter Parker, despite what others had claimed, had grown up.

It was a wake-up call to those standing there with him about their own age.

“It’s okay, Johnny. Once you’re a dad, you can grow a soft streak and not be judged.” Peter raised a smug eyebrow at Johnny, who fumed silently as he fell in behind “The Closed Circuit.”

It was a nickname he, Ben and MJ had made years ago; before Annie was born, Peter would come over and coop himself up in the lab with Reed and Sue for days at a time. At first, it had been a coping mechanism to deal with the loss of his Aunt; being around people who viewed him as family (Especially in the wake of his fallout with Tony and the Avengers) comforted him.

Eventually, people move on from loss, even Peter. They just don’t realize they’ve moved on.

That didn’t mean that his love of sciencing it up with the Richards did. It was a place where, in a time where Peter had burned a lot of his superhero bridges, he would always be welcome to help discover and innovate.

Of course, Annie came along; and family came first. Eventually, Peter became consumed by parenthood and his work for Horizon; all of that combined with his time as Spider-Man didn’t equal that same time dedicated to pure discovery. Sure, there was the occasional baseball game and holiday dinners at the Baxter Building, but it didn’t feel like the old days.

“So, even Reed couldn’t fix it?” Peter examined the tablet as he kept pace with Reed and Sue. “Why bring me in and not Tony or Hank? Or the other Hank? This looks way more up their alley; the hull plating is rated for the vacuum of space.”

“Well, for one, we trust you.” Reed explained, taking the tablet away. Pressing a button led to a hologram display of a cross-section of their newest model of Fantasticar. “We’ve known you longer than almost anybody else in the superhuman community. And, we assumed, vice versa.”

“Dear,” Sue cleared her throat, giving her husband a playful glare. “What did we agree about sugarcoating with flattery?”

Reed paused, frowning as he handed the tablet to Sue. “…And because you have far more steady hands than we do. Tony shouldn’t need to be explained, and neither Yellowjacket or Beast are as intimately familiar with our technology as you.”

“Awww, I’m touched.” Peter’s voice dripped sarcasm, but the sweet kind to let them know he didn’t mean any ill will. “Alright, where’s the garage? Johnny, you want to help me bust her open? It’ll be just like old times with the Spider-Mobile.”

Johnny gave a cocky smirk, pointing down a nearby hall. “We moved it inward after the Symbiote invasion. You know how to play with the power tools?”

Now it was Peter’s turn to grin. “Pop ‘er open.” A crack of his knuckles accentuated his wham line. “Let me see if I can’t work some magic on your hot rod.”

* * *

 

Reed, Ben and Sue came into the hangar to find the Fantasticar’s innards splayed all over the deck, Johnny and Peter rolled under the plating and gutting the damn thing piece-by-piece.

“I, uh… Peter, we asked you here because you’re more careful. Not so you and Johnny could tear the thing apart.”

Peter rolled out, coolant and oil staining his face and costume. “No choice, Reed. And you might want to watch what you shove inside this thing. There’s a huge box in there, and it’s jamming the main ignition. Had to move everything out from the chassis.”

“S’long as ya help put the clunker back together.” Ben grumbled, reaching into his pocket and picking up a cigar and lighter. (Peter silently pondered if Ben had ever quit smoking; he could’ve sworn this was the first time he had a cigar in years.) “I don’t think these hands would be able to get all that wiring back into there.”

“Not doubting you, Ben. Oooh, there you go.” With a loud crack, whatever was jammed in there wasn’t jammed anymore; Peter grinned gleefully as he rolled out from underneath the Fantasticar. “One… box… thing, free of charge from your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man.”

“Excellent, Peter. Thank you.” Instead of taking the box, Reed instead kept standing with the rest of the four. “It’s yours. As a thank-you for helping to fix the Fantasticar.” Peter raised an eyebrow. He knew the Richards liked him, but not enough to let him keep a proverbial war trophy. (Were they wearing new costumes? The emblem looked a little loose.)

“You sure?” As skeptical as ever, Peter noticed a button on the side, and a small crevice. “What’s in it?”

“Only what you want to find.” The most punchable smirk imaginable spread across Johnny’s face. “Promise, it’s not a repeat of 2015.”

Pressing the button gingerly, Peter wasn’t surprised that the box opened automatically. This was the Baxter Building, after all; the damn walls moved here, for crying out loud. What did surprise him, however, was the contents of the box: a costume.

It looked like an F4 costume, which didn’t surprise him either. What threw him off was the black, spider-like legs running down the torso of the suit, and the black mask with Spider-eyes. The mask, near-identical to his Symbiote costume in almost every way, stared back at him; it slowly dawned on him what he had received.

“Wait a sec…”

Peter quickly looked back at the torso, looking at the emblem. In a white square, connecting the Spider-legs, was a geometric, black “5”.

“No way.”

Reed pulled the four off his chest. A five was beneath it, just as stenciled in as Peter’s. Sue pulled hers off. Then Johnny. Finally, Ben reached to the sides of his pants and tore off the large, black four slapped onto it. It, as well, was a five. Peter wasn’t sure how much dust had made its way into the Baxter Building. But he was happy that it was there.

“Space is a big place, Peter.” Reed said warmly, the rest of the team holding their hands together in a pile. “We could always use a fifth person helping us explore it.”

There were no words. They never needed them.

There was no adding his hand to the pile. He had never needed to do that either. They were far beyond that.

Instead came a hug stronger than any he had ever given. And it was returned in kind by the family surrounding him. And a voice, which Peter was more than sure was Ben, softly cracked through the short but pregnant silence of the hangar.

“Heh. Welcome to the Fantastic Five, kiddo.”


End file.
